


Not The Fighting Type

by thebenniebabyninja



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Pirate, F/F, Gen, Pirates, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25944874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebenniebabyninja/pseuds/thebenniebabyninja
Summary: lClarke was not the fighting type. When she heard she was headed to the new world she never imagined having a sword in her hand or blood in her hair.Or;Clarke is sent to the new world but gets trapped in a strom along the way and gets boarded by pirates.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin & Lexa, Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Not The Fighting Type

A sliver of light shines in through the curtain, Clarke cracks an eye open, checking the hazy room around her. She groans and pulls her blanket up to her chin, hiding from the early morning chill. The floor creaks outside her door and she sighs, preparing herself for another battle with her mother.

The door swings open and Abby's feet thump steadily towards the window. She rips the curtains away allowing a steady stream of sunlight into the room. Clarke throws her blanket over her head as Abby spins on her heels, watching as the dust settles back to it's home.

"Oh no Clarke. We're not doing this today." Abby says, grabbing a chunk of the blanket and pulling hard.

The blanket slips from over her head but Clarke holds on. She grumbles something and rolls onto her side, not ready to face the day. Abby shuffles around the room but Clarke keeps her eyes shut, not giving her mother the satisfaction.

"Clarke? Honey why aren't you packed?" Abby says with a sigh.

Finally Clarke opens her eyes, focused on the peeling wallpaper. "I'm not going." She says.

Abby pauses, her eyes soften and she combs a hand through Clarke's hair. "I know how hard this is, but we don't have a choice."

Clarke rolls onto her back, sending a dark glare towards her mother. The tension in the room runs thick like molasses, sticky and palpable. Clarke can feel the heady sting of tears in the back of her throat. 

"I hate it when you do that," Clarke says.

Abby takes a seat, the bed dips with the added weight. She goes to stroke Clarke's back but she moves before her hand can touch her. 

"Don't."

Abby sighs again and hangs her head in her hands, "I don't want to do this either Clarke. Everything I know is here, it's where I met your father-"

"No, you don't get to talk about him like that. I'm not leaving him here."

"Honey, we don't have a choice. The deed has been signed over, we have to go. Please pack your things, the ship leaves at high noon." Abby pat's Clarke on the shoulder, before she exits the room.

Clarke rolls over, staring back at the peeling wallpaper.

\--

The movers came before they were packed. Their things were loaded on the carriage and sent on their way. Clarke disappeared as the boxes were being loaded, but Abby knew where to find her.

The cemetery was cold and unwelcoming. The stones were overgrown and unkempt. Abby continued down the dirt path until she found Clarke knelt down in front of the one person she needed most. Abby kneels down next to Clarke, fresh tears spring into her eyes. 

"It's not fair." Clarke says, voice hard.

Abby smiles and wipes away a tear. "I know honey, he was too kind for the world."

Clarke's shoulders begin to shake, Abby leans forward capturing her daughter in a tight hug. Clarke leans into her mother, releasing the months of grieving she's been gripping on to. They sit there for what seems like hours, bothing grieving the loss of a great man, a father, a husband. 

Eventually Abby stands, pulling Clarke to her feet, it's time to go.

\--

It only takes an hour for the skilled sailors of The Exodus to fully load the ship. Passengers and crew are ready for their new adventure. All except Clarke, who is not seaworthy in the slightest. She stands at the railing, legs shaky and palms sweaty as she reaches over the side for the tenth time.

The Exodus is a large ship, the only ship she's ever been on. Each small move makes her weak in the knees. Each big dip from the ocean makes her stomach dip and each shout from the crew makes her anxiety higher. She's been alone for far too long, having lost her mother when she was searching for a place to puke.

Feeling brave enough to leave her perch, she sauntered to the belly of the ship to find a place to sleep. But she soon discovered that sleep would come to no man. There was gambling. There was drinking. Above deck was so quiet compared to this. 

Clarke grumbles and plops down on a bench. She rests her head in her hands, feeling a headache coming on, along with her queasy stomach. She's shoved violently to the side, she wins around to yell at the person but her mouth drops open in shock. This certainly wasn't a person she had been expecting.

"Raven! Oh my God you're here!"

The two girls grip each other tight, rocking back and forth. Raven pulls away to get a good look at her friend.

"I'm not the only one! O and Bel are here too!"

A smile finds its way to Clarke's face, her queasy stomach at the furthest recesses of her mind.

\--

The water was choppy today. The captain warned the passengers to stay below deck, but has Clarke ever listened to authority? Clarke made her way above deck, having grown her sea legs not long after meeting up with her friends. 

The sky was dark, clouds hung heavy in the sky. The air was humid and thick as she scoured the deck for something to do. 

"Sail ho!"

The crew snap to attention and a palpable tension hangs in the air. 

"The colors?" The captain shouts.

There's a pregnant pause before the reply comes.

"She flies the Jolly Roger, sir!"

There's a shift in the air as the captain makes the command.

"All hands on deck!"

The ship has spotted them, it's made a wide turn and head straight towards them. Before Clarke knows it, there's a sword in her hand and the pirates are upon them.

Their board the ship, There's a clash of metal against metal. The battle is over quickly, a passenger vessel is no match for the prowess of the Jolly Roger. The crew is dead, along with most of the passengers. There's a stillness in the air. A calm before the storm.

"Hod Op."

A figure boards their vessel, brown hair in long braids. She takes residence at the helm and shouts orders to the crew in a language Clarke doesn't understand. 

"I am Lexa kom Trikru. This is our ship now and you are under my command."

Lexa spins the wheel, spinning the ship around, changing course from the America's to God only knows where. The only thing Clarke does know is that, even through all that dirt and grime, Lexa is one sexy pirate.

The clouds part and it begins to rain.


End file.
